


Perchance

by tosca



Category: s-CRY-ed
Genre: Dreams, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca/pseuds/tosca





	Perchance

He shifts his weight, pressing me into the softness of warm flannel sheets, lips nipping little kisses down my face. Ah, that feels nice. I drag a hand through unruly brown hair, pulling him closer, trying to draw him into me. Kimishima moans, plunges his tongue inside my mouth, wet and fast and dirty. Oh, this is good, so good. I wrap a leg around his waist, tilt my hips demandingly and Kimishima laughs into me, the vibration running all the way down my spine, desire rushing, rushing, through my body. We break apart, breathless, saliva drips onto my chin and he licks it off, follows my cheekbone up and starts tongue-fucking my ear.

"Fuck!"

"I'll get to that eventually."

"Baka!"

He slides a hand down my thigh, skims my dick and cradles my balls, stroking gently. I grunt. He hums happily. I love the way he vibrates when we do this. I love the way it's light and easy and joyful; not a power struggle, not a contest. Damn, but I love the bastard. I whisper it in his ear and he laughs again, delighted,

"Back at you, Kazuma."

No.

Ryuho... I'm Ryuho.

Consciousness breaks through like a fighter jet erupting from the clouds, a steel needle shredding ether. For a moment there's shock, disorientation, some broken-glass feeling I want to hold onto which slips bloodily through my hands into nothingness. Then as my breath and heart slow, there's the sting of loss contracting my stomach and an acidic flood of saliva in my mouth. I lie rigidly still, listening to the sound of inhalation and exhalation, waiting to return to myself.

Eventually I turn to look at Kazuma dreaming beside me in a careless sprawl, his posture as unguarded as his thoughts. He's smiling and I know without looking that he's half-hard. I should be angry he drags me into his nighttime wanderings, but I can't manage it. It's like watching a film, one of those feel-good children's movies you remember years later through a rosy haze. It isn't reality, I tell myself, nothing's truly like that.

I'll wake him up tomorrow with a blowjob, he likes me going down on him in the mornings. Then I'll fuck him through the mattress. Remind him who he's with, ground him in reality. But I'll let him sleep now, wrapped in Kimishima's arms. It's one battle even I know I can't win. One foe, that for all my Alter ability, I'm defenceless against.

You can't fight the dead.


End file.
